


heartache (roots)

by tillloveburnusall



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Even I can't really understand, Flowers, Hanahaki Disease, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, Sicheng is Dejun's adoptive father, This is really confusing, not exactly an open ending but...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23808349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillloveburnusall/pseuds/tillloveburnusall
Summary: Once, Xiaojun coughed Tickseeds and Clematis to show his love.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery, Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Liu Yang Yang/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	heartache (roots)

**Author's Note:**

> OH. MY. GOD.
> 
> you guys have no idea how tiring writing this was, my back is killing me and I still have two hours of studying to go T.T I also don't really like how this story ended but all the other options seemed lame, sorry.
> 
> edited: 28/04/2020

**Forget-Me-Not**

Dejun’s day starts with Renjun almost bringing his front door down. 

His head is heavy and he feels like drinking at least four liters of water so he can wash the awful taste of blood from his mouth. He gets up slowly, feeling weird about the fluffy carpet under his feet, too soft for his likes. 

It’s all dark and he can barely see the window curtains, which is even weirder because Dejun can’t see himself buying curtains with bunny patterns. 

Renjun screams his name one more time, and if the other’s voice wasn’t so strange, he would’ve made a joke about it. As soon as he opens the door, arms wrapped him in a tight hug and Dejun needs to swallow his shock when he notices that Renjun is _crying._

It shakes his whole body and when Dejun tries to move away and say something, Renjun tightens his grip and mumbles something that sounds like a curse in Korean.

They stay like this until Renjun himself decides that he cried enough and steps back, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks hot. 

“You asshole.” 

“Good morning to you too, jeez.” He replies, giving Renjun space to come inside and thinking one more time that this day is just getting stranger and it’s still nine in the morning. With the corner of his eyes, he notices that someone scribbled YY+HD+XJ with a heart on his door. 

He needs to have a talk with Ms. Zhang about her son’s art tendencies. 

Renjun is sprawled on his couch looking at the ceiling when Dejun comes back to his living room and one more time he notices how weird his own house seems to be. Too many colors and things that he can’t remember where came from.

Some are small, the fact that his plant vases are all colored, others are striking, like the bass that Dejun is sure he can’t play for his life, sitting next to his piano. 

He gives the thing a closer look and thinks that he must be losing his mind because the instrument is full of stickers in another language that he is mildly sure is german. 

When Renjun starts sobbing again he pushes the thought to the back of his mind and goes back to his friend, enveloping him in an awkward hug. 

“God, I’m so tired of you, Dejun.” Renjun says after they split. “Where the hell have you been?”

 _Something is definitely wrong._ He thinks to himself, fully sure that he spent the last two days holed up in his bedroom working on his last biochem assignment.

“Here?” Just by Renjun’s look, he knows it's the wrong answer, but he also knows that it is the only one possible so he opts for an olive branch. “Do you know who is the bass owner? I can’t remember where I got it from and I’m pretty sure that I don’t know how to play it”

Renjun looks at him like he got a second head or something, before giving a sideways glance to the instrument and staring back at Dejun, alarmed.

“Are you on drugs?” Rejuns asks, eyes wide and if it wasn't tragic it would be comical. “Because if you are, I’m telling Uncle Cheng.”

“What? No!” He replies, showing his indignance by throwing a pillow at Renjun. “Believe me or not, I was here the whole weekend and I don’t remember buying or renting a bass.” 

“Don’t play idiot, Xiaojun. You know its Yangyang’s bass.” Renjun goes back to stare at the ceiling, but now he just seems annoyed. “It's been here since last autumn.”

 _Yangyang_. He thinks about the name, looking for the reason why Renjun would talk so casually about someone he doesn’t know when the idiot takes at least one month to stop pretending he doesn’t remember the person’s name, furthermore, Dejun tries to remember where the hell _Xiaojun_ came from. 

Then, suddenly, an idea pops in his mind. 

_Of fucking course._

“You think you are so funny, Huang.” Renjuns answer with a puzzled look that would’ve thrown Dejun off if he wasn’t so _goddamn tired_. “I got drunk, you and Chenle brought all this shit to my place and now are playing dumb.”

Just as he voices his line of thought he thinks more and more that it’s completely stupid and if Renjun’s hard stare means anything, he seems to be thinking the same, but before he can even open his mouth, Dejus starts babbling again. 

“ _Haha_ , you guys were funnier when we were younger.” He says, pacing around the room as he remembers that he doesn’t drink on Sundays and that Renjun and Chenle were on a trip to visit Grandma Zhong. “I-Fuck it, Renjun. What’s going on? Why is there a bass in my living room? And why is my vase of Forget-Me-Not pink?”

His mind swirls and Renjun is back at looking at him like he's an alien.

“I don’t know what is going on, sweetie.” Renjun voice is soft and Dejun now feels a little pissed, Renjun just uses his soft voice when he needs to convince Chenle out of something stupid. “But I know that Yangyang’s bass is here because you let the brat get too comfy and the vase is a present from Guanheng for your birthday, you know he can’t see pink shit that he gets wild.”

Dejun’s hand starts trembling because _he doesn’t._ He doesn’t know that Yangyang is a brat and he doesn’t know that Guanheng likes pink. 

“R-Renjun, why’d called me Xiaojun?”

“Uh...It’s your nickname?” Renjun doesn’t sound soft anymore, he sounds desperate and Dejun knows that he finally came to some conclusion about his lack of memory. “Dejun, sixth grade, when we met Yangyang and he didn’t understand your name because you were whispering and thought it was Xiaojun instead of Dejun. You remember that, right?”

No one has ever called him Xiaojun. 

“No, Junnie… I-I… _I’m Dejun_.”

On his windowsill, three vases sit together. Tickseeds, Clematis and Magnolias.

“I…”

He can’t remember the reason why he thought the three of them would look good together. The Clematis and Tickseeds form a colorful and remarkable combination but the Magnolia with its exquisite beauty stands out awkwardly. 

He stares right at Renjun. 

“Who are Yangyang and Guanheng?”

**Geranium and Belladonna**

Yangyang is curled up on his bed when Dejun comes out of the bathroom. Hair still damps and looking even smaller in the younger’s clothes. 

“Are you sure your friend is not gonna care?” He asks, falling on top of Yangyang and snuggling till his face was between the crook of the other’s neck. 

“For the fifteenth time… No, I'm sure he won’t.” Yangyang’s voice is hoarse and Dejun thinks that the younger looks cute like that, vulnerable and sleepy. “Guanheng is more excited than me, probably. I don’t want him to steal my best friend.”

Dejun’s heart bumps a bit faster inside his chest, but he ignores it in order to sneak his cold hands under Yangyang’s shirt so he can place them in warm skin. He can feel the other shivering and his breath hitch a little, but otherwise, he says or do nothing. 

“No one will steal me away from you, Yangie, I promised.” And Dejun keeps his promise because even when later that night, Guanheng appears at Yangyang’s front porch with the most dazzling smile that he ever saw, half of him still belongs to Yangyang. 

But maybe, his other half was stolen by the guy that wears Totoro socks and tells lame jokes that wouldn’t make Dejun laugh if the result wasn’t twinkling eyes and fond smiles. 

…

“Xiaojun, here!”

He looks around, finding Guanheng waving at him from his seat. The whole library stares at them and Guanheng seems to understand his mistake because he stares at Dejun with puppy eyes, making him laugh at the other cuteness.

“One day, we’ll get expelled from here” He says as a greeting, throwing all his stuff out of the bag, resulting in a loud thump sound, dragging everyone’s attention back to them and making Xiaojun get red as a tomato. “It seems that the day is closer than I thought.”

“Don’t worry, Jun. The librarian already warned me that if Yangyang comes too, this will be the last time the three of us stay here together and by the time…” He draws out, tapping at his bare wrist like he had a watch. “He’s probably stumbling to the entrance right now.”

Right to Guanheng’s word, not long after Yangyang comes walking to their desks like he just ran a marathon. 

“I hate Renjun.” He says and Dejun thinks that they definitely should work on their greetings. “He made me go buy ice cream to him under the excuse he was sick just because the fucker wanted to finish some level on his stupid game.”

Guanheng coos at Yangyang, petting the younger’s head while Dejun just smiles, watching. 

He loves them so much that sometimes his chest aches, but he knows his place.

 _Pain in favor of the ones you love._ He could practically see his father smiling at him while reciting the family proverbs, this one in particular stuck at his mind and he always feels like there’s something else but he can’t remember. 

Yangyang yelps when Guanheng _accidentally_ pull his hair with more force than necessary and some weird calmness washes over Dejun. It would be okay, they were friends. 

The best of them.

**Red Begonia.**

Dejun is tired.

His limbs seemed to forget how to move from the broken form and his throat is so, so dry. 

Flashes of Yangyang’s happy eyes and Guanheng’s warm hands fill his mind and another wave of pain courses through his body. A weak moan comes out of his mouth when he tries one more time to get up, his arms failing him, dragging back to the mattress. 

His phone is somewhere on the floor, it died a long time ago, shutting off the buzzing sound of messages. 

The only person he talked to since the… Incident, was his father. He knew that if he didn't call Sicheng, the man would appear at his apartment with the police in less than one day, so he asked him to stay low and tell the others, in case one of them called, that Dong Granny was sick so he was taking care of her.

He knew Haechan and Renjun wouldn’t believe, Sicheng couldn’t lie to save his life and they both had visited his grandma more than once to know that the woman would rather die than have anyone "taking care" of her but they would understand, they always did.

That was a week ago and since then, Dejun’s life just got worse as the clock ticked. 

It started with seeds, small round seeds. He coughed them just after coming exhausted from faking a smile for four hours after Guanheng announced that he and Yangyang were _finally_ dating. 

He hugged both of them and even joked about how it was _obvious._

It hurt.

But he managed, even smiled at the “new” couple and went to “enjoy” the rest of the party. He ate some fried chicken, played some beer pong and truth or dare and when Jeno asked if someone could take his cousin - Mark, if his memory wasn’t failing him - home, he got to his feet so fast that he needed to convince Jeno he wasn’t high or something. 

He didn’t stop when he heard Yangyang scream his name and he didn’t stop when after he tucked a really drunk Mark to the passenger seat, Guanheng came running towards him.

He knew he was being an ass, none of them deserved that. They didn’t even know about Xiaojun’s feelings, how could he treat them like this?

But his punishment came sooner than he thought. After leaving Mark with his roommate - A tall dude named Johnny that made Star Wars pajamas on a grow up look cool - he went back to his house and before he could even pass the threshold, he was already coughing. 

Bloody Clematis petals first and sometime later, Tickseeds. 

It was excruciating and scaring, but Dejun knew he couldn’t count on anyone. So he coughed.

Hanahaki took five weeks to take over someone’s heart. First seeds, then small branches that would grow bigger in the second stage and then accompany one or two petals in the third stage, completing its cycles when the patient started coughing full flowers signaling the fourth and final stage. 

The end was just as tragic as poetic. 

The roots would take over the lungs and arteries until the patient couldn’t breathe enough anymore, choking on the flower and his own blood.

He was already in the second phase, that was very clear.

He had just two choices, confess his love and maybe turn the table so maybe it would be returned or… Undergo a surgery that would make him forget Yangyang and Guanheng's existence from his memory, just like his love for both of them. 

He didn't want to forget, but time wasn't being gentle with him, he was coughing not just one love but two, so they weakened him sooner than in the usual cases and in the middle of the first week, he already was coughing branches that were the same size of the palm of his hand.

He could barely eat, and like that, he knew that there was no way he would let them see him like this. He could see the hurt and guilt on Guanheng’s eyes and they didn’t deserve this, _Dejun_ didn’t deserve this. 

So during one mourning of the second week, where he felt particularly well, he took his coat, his key cars and left a message in their group chat. 

**_ The Three Musketeers  _ **

Xiaojun: I hope you can forgive me. 

SmallYang: What? Xiaojun, where the fuck you’ve been?

Cucumber: We did something that upset you? 

Cucumber: Just answer us, Junnie. I swear we can fix it, baby

Cucumber: Please, Dejun...

SmallYang: You’d promised that no one would steal you from me

SmallYang: That includes you, idiot

Cucumber: We love you, come back to us, JunJun

**Butterfly weed**

“So you really don’t remember?”

“No, Renjun.” He dryly replies, massaging his knuckles to relieve stress. “For the last time, I don’t remember who these people are.”

They are in his kitchen, Renjun sitting on the floor while Dejun is cross-legged on the counter staring at a picture of him with two other boys in what seems to be a graduation party. _His_ graduation party.

He looks at himself in the picture and thinks that he doesn’t look exactly happy, rather… _Conformed._ Like he is going with the flow, but afraid of getting drowned, so he keeps himself at the bay. 

He runs his thumbs over the taller guy beside him, he is pretty, big grin and cute eyes. Taller than him and the exact type of guy that would catch Dejun’s attention. 

The other one is also cute, long hair and delicate features with innocent eyes. His gaze is not on the camera though, and Dejun finally understands.

“I was in love with them, wasn’t I?” He hears Renjun hums softly and looks back at him. “But they are dating, right? Fluffy hair and Cute Teeth.”

Renjun snorts, getting up and shrugging invisible dust from his pants.

“Yeah, how did you notice?”

Dejun gives Renjun a look before answering. 

“Because I was being painfully obvious for what I see. Also...” He stares at the picture. “They’re exactly my type.”

…

Dejun remembers that he’s late to work when Renjun is in the middle of telling how he and the couple that almost made him die, met. 

He dropped a pile of books on Yangyang’s feet after he thought the other was making fun of his name and when the misunderstood was cleared they became Best Friends Forever. Until they enrolled in college and Guanheng came along, completing their small circle and crashing the rest of his heart. 

“Are you sure you should go?” Renjun asks, biting his nails. “Yangyang works there too and if you really went through a hanahaki surgery, you should avoid meeting the subject of affection for some time.”

“I need to work, Junnie. Sicheng can’t pay for my tuition _and_ house fees. Besides…” He looks back to Renjun once more, pointing at the various vases that piled on his windowsill. “I have children to feed.”

Before he can close the door, Renjun speaks one more time. 

“Don’t get hurt, Xiaojun.”

Xiaojun. Maybe he can get used to the nickname. It _is_ cute, after all. 

“I already coughed flowers for them, Renjunie. How can this get worse?”

…

Both his co-workers wrap him in a bear hug as soon as Dejun steps inside the shop and he just escapes when Ten comes out of his office, looking more tired than usual. 

“Yuta, can you please stop screaming? It’s not even noon yet and…” Ten trails off when he notices Dejun in the middle of the shop, hands burrowed on his green coat. “What the hell?”

Dejun tilts his head, smiling lightly. 

“I still have a job?” 

Ten is not much taller than Dejun, but the younger had forgotten how strong he could be so when Ten presses him closer, he needs to gasp for air. 

“I’m just twenty-eight, kid.” Ten says after they split, smiling so much that Dejun feels bad for making the older worry. “Don’t make me grow white hair.”

“Yeah, we even called Sicheng” Jungwoo says, slinging an arm around Dejun’s shoulder. It's said in a light tone but still presses his shoulder with more force than necessary.

“I’m really sorry, guys. I have a lot of things to explain and I will, I promise.”

Ten snorts. “You better, kid. I didn’t pull up with Yangyang non-stopping whining for nothing.” 

Just the other’s name makes Dejun anxious and he asks himself if this really was a wise idea. 

But before he can think about something stupid enough to convince Ten that he can’t work, someone passes through the back door, mumbling about snow and hunt dogs. 

For some reason, Dejun finds himself waiting. When the boy shrugs off his coat, when he takes one of the aprons hanging from the cabinet, when he finally lifts his head and their eyes meet. 

Dejun is waiting, but nothing comes. Friendship, care, comfort… _Love_. It’s all gone, along with the flowers that suffocated his chest.

He feels empty.

“ _Xiaojun.”_ Is barely a whisper but echoes like thunder.

Yangyang stares at him like he saw some ghost and Dejun needs to contain the urge to laugh when Ten murmurs “drama queen” before sending Yuta and Jungwoo to work and slipping away himself, not long after. 

None of them say anything, but for entirely different reasons. Dejun, for example, has no idea how he is going to explain the reason why he doesn’t remember who the guy is. 

_“So, I was in love with you, well not just you but your boyfriend too but don’t worry because you know Hanahaki? That bitch. So I coughed some shit and I had only two options or I would die and I chose to forget my feelings and why not, you guys too… So, friends?”_

That would be _spectacular._

“There was blood on your doorknob.”

Dejun snaps his head in Yangyang direction, surprised by the fear in such a nice voice.

“What?”

“I-I was worried and afraid that Heng and I made you angry so I went to your apartment. There was blood on your doorknob.”

_Oh, maybe he was coughing blood already?_

“That was nothing, I just cut my hand. It's ok, Yangyang.” He replies softly to the implied question, but Yangyang seems even more distraught now and oh, Dejun can perfectly see himself falling for this guy. 

“Are you that angry?” Yangyang asks, biting his lips and staring at his shoes.

“No! I swear I’m not angry.” _God, why was this so complicated?_

“But you never call me Yangyang.” 

_Of fucking course I don’t call you by your fucking name._

Dejun takes deep breaths, walking towards the other, and resting his hands on his shoulders.

“Look, Yang, I’m not mad at you or… _Heng.”_ He tastes the nickname on his tongue and sounds so sweet and melodic that it makes Dejun wonder if its owner would be just the same. “I just needed time to recover from a coughing fit.”

Yangyang doesn’t waste time before getting into his personal space, running his hands around Dejun’s waist and burying his face on his shoulder.

Dejun feels his face heat up, he can’t imagine himself being comfortable enough to let someone touch him like this. He can't imagine a lot of things that are happening, actually.

It would be weird if he didn’t move at all, so Dejun runs his hands through the brown strands of the other’s hair. It’s soft and he feels like he could do this all day long.For some seconds, he thinks about pretending. Act like he remembers that Yangyang plays bass and that this Heng guy likes soft things.

But he’s not a good liar, and his heart finally belongs to him again. He won’t let anyone hurt it. Not again.

So when Yangyang finally lets him go, Dejun starts talking. 

**Lily-of-the-valley**

Dejun is running. 

Fresh paint on his face as his bare feet are swallowed by slippery mud. Someone touches his elbow and before he can run faster, he is already being brought down. 

“ _No, Heng!”_ He says, breathless while Guanheng tickles him. “You are stealing… I- _Stop.”_

“No one ever said that tickling was forbidden, darling.” He sings-songs, smiling as Dejun struggles to keep his hands away. 

Dejun can feel the mud soaking his shirt, sticking the cloth to his back.

He lets himself go limb, changing positions when the brunette relaxes at his resignation. His knee goes between Guanheng tights and his mouth dangerously next to the boy’s neck. 

“I got you.” He whispers.

“You got me,” Guanheng replies, intertwining their hands and leaning for a proper kiss when Xiaojun brushes their lips together. 

“And here I was thinking that we were only playing tag.” Yangyang’s voice is laced with amusement and they both turn, finding him smiling fondly at them. “Come on, if we are camping is better we get something good out of this besides Ten’s bitching and bugs.”

Later that day, while Taeyong is trying to help Ten with the bonfire - figuratively, apparently, because they seem to put more work in swallowing each other's face than actually firing anything - and he is watching a Lily-Of-The-Valley grow in the middle of the mud, he thinks that flowers are blooming on his chest again. 

“Xiaojun, look I found Magnolias!” Guanheng holds a small white flower on his hands like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “It’s your favorite, right?”

“I think I like Clematis and Tickseeds better.” He says, feeling the softness from the fragile, yet fierce flower. “But we can make an arrangement with the three of them.”

At least, this time he won’t choke on them.

**Narcissus**

Two months go by before Dejun sees Yangyang again. 

He remembers vividly the other boy's face falling while he tells what happened. It haunts him every time he closes his eyes. 

After their talk, Yangyang just stood there, looking at something behind Dejun that only he could see. 

When Dejun tried calling his attention, he snapped out of the trance but still, his eyes seemed hollow and he just shook his head before picking his coat and asking Dejun if he could cover for him for a while. 

And then, he was gone. 

“I can’t believe that when I finally get an employee back, another goes missing.” Ten’s voice sounds dry and Dejun would feel accused if he didn’t know that Ten was just worried. 

“You’ve been talking to him?”

“Guanheng.” One more time Dejun feels guilt over something he can’t control anymore. He wishes he hadn’t done what he did, he wishes he could get his memories, his love back. Maybe then, he could fix this mess.

“Don’t do this to yourself, kid.” Dejuns snaps his head towards Taeyong, Ten’s husband that always pops in the shop to check on Ten or to help them if he has time. Now, he is watching Xiaojun like he knew exactly what was going on in his head and didn’t like it a bit. “It’s not your fault. There were fucking flowers in your lungs and they would grow until they _killed_ you if your love couldn’t be reprocicated. It was your life on board, Dejun. You did nothing wrong.”

Taeyong eyes soften when Dejun lets out a small sob. 

“Love is not supposed to make you bleed, honey.”

…

He meets Guanheng in the supermarket. 

Dejun is trying to read some package with his shitty eyesight when someone speaks behind him. 

“I didn’t take you as a fan of strawberry milk.” 

It startles the shit out of him and he almost hits the stranger with his basket, before noticing that it is not really a stranger. 

Looking at him apologetically, is the second guy in the picture, Guanheng. 

“I’m not… It’s for Kun, my neighbor.” He says, looking right at Guanheng eyes, searching for some sign of sadness or maybe resentment but he ends with nothing but some odd casualness. "He's a musician so he intends to forget that he's also a human being."

“I know. ” 

Yeah, he _knows._

“Yangyang’s bass is on my apartment.” He blurts out when the silence stretches far too long and he starts to get anxious.

Guanheng's eyes widen and Dejun can’t avoid comparing him to a cat. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, it must be bothering you.” He says, looking around like somehow he could find the damn bass in the supermarket. “I’ll ask him to go get, I promise.”

“No, oh my god, it’s not… _bothering_ me.” _I’m an idiot._ “I just don’t-”

He looks at Guanheng’s face, finding the other watching him with his head tilted to the side. 

“What? You don’t remember? You guys were going to play at a children's hospital so he left there because it was closer.”

Dejun’s can feel a weight lift from his shoulder. Guanheng is not talking to him like he’s questioning the reason for what he did as Renjun does sometimes. He just answers like they are all the same and he just forgot something that is naturally not so important. 

But it is and Dejun already likes him for making things easier. 

“I can’t imagine myself performing for kids.” He takes the peace offer and smiles to Guanheng, finally finding something in those dark eyes that don’t seem fabricated. _Excitement._

“You didn’t want to but Yangs just wouldn’t let it go so you were almost obliged.” He shrugs, shoving three boxes of Palermo’s Pizza in his basket. “He is quite vexing when he wants to, but he’s also cute so I guess its square.”

“ _That_ I can imagine.” As soon as the words leave his lips, he’s already regretting but surprising him, Guanheng doesn’t seem to be affected at all.

“You don't need to walk on eggshells around us, ok?” Guanheng’s voice is smooth, but he’s biting the inside of his cheeks. “It was weird because you were always so close and I never noticed? It’s weird because… You were in love with us the whole time, JunJun and your love gave us strength but ours almost killed you.”

Dejun stops, watching the brunette taking a deep breath before finishing his speech with an unstable voice.

“How can I forgive myself when I know that while I was happy you were miserable?” He sounds so broken, that Dejun urges to tell him that he's fine, but something else appears on his mind.

“These days I remembered one of my family's proverbs.” He says, looking directly at Guanheng. “I forgot the second part but when I talked to my dad he remind me the rest. _Pain in favor of the ones you love.”_

The way the dark eyes shine shows that in some moment in the past he already had told them this. 

_“But the roots of pain and love intertwined are ill and only flourish jealousy and sorrow.”_ He completes. “You don’t need to forgive yourself, Guanheng, just like I don’t need either.” 

“Let's walk together on a path that won’t bring us pain, uh?”

Guanheng's smile seems to brighten the whole world, Dejun thinks. 

The next day, Yangyang goes to work. 

**Author's Note:**

> Some note about this work:  
> . the Dong family proverb quoted here is just something my grandma told when I was younger, I adapted so it could actually look like a proverb but is more simple than in the story  
> . i'm brazilian and there are some places here where the kids have habit of calling some of their family friends "Tio" (Uncle). I don't know how this would work on other countries but I want to explain so you guys wouldn't think that Sicheng is Renjun's uncle.  
> 


End file.
